by Lori Foster
Denver scowled, giving Stack a shove. Which in turn knocked him into Armie. None of them spoke.
Cannon took up the torch. “It’s only set up for men.”
“We don’t need the urinals,” Vanity said. “Just the showers.”
Yvette plucked at her top. “I really could—”
Cannon put his hand over her mouth. “We don’t have a door on the locker room, and sure, we’d all know not to step in, but there are other people here, other guys, and—”
Vanity said, “So put someone there to keep watch for us.”
Stack opened his mouth, but at first nothing came out. He cleared his throat. “Sounds carry down there.” He gestured. “There not being a door and all.”
Grinning, Armie said, “Meaning whoever keeps guard—”
“Watch,” Vanity corrected.
“—will hear every little detail. Like clothes dropping. And water running. Even slick, soapy hands—”
This time, Stack shoved him without Denver’s help.
“I’ll do it,” Cannon offered, and he sounded like he’d just thrown himself on the sacrificial altar.
“Fuck that.” Denver took a step forward. “I don’t want you listening to Cherry shower.”
Cherry’s face got hotter. “Denver!”
Folding his arms, Cannon stared at him. “You think I’d let you listen to Yvette?”
“Cannon!” Yvette joined the brigade of embarrassed women.
Only Vanity remained unflustered. “Let Armie do it.”
Mutually appalled, Stack, Denver and Cannon all stared at her.
Going along, Armie nodded and rubbed his hands together. “Yeah, let me do it.”
“Hell, no.”
“In his dreams.”
“Not in this lifetime.”
Armie laughed. “You guys know I won’t be thinking anything you wouldn’t be thinking.”
“Maybe,” Denver said. “But we wouldn’t go blabbing it everywhere.”
Crossing his heart dramatically, Armie swore, “It’ll be between me and my pillow.”
Denver took a step toward him, but Vanity put herself in his way. “We’re showering. For the future, you might want to think about creating a space for women.”
“Tried,” Cannon argued. “We’re out of room here. I wanted to expand, but the guy who owns the lot next to us doesn’t want to sell.”
“Hmm...” Vanity got a thoughtful look on her face. “Well then, I suggest you find a desk to put down there and then, perhaps, we could plan this around when Harper is here doing the scheduling. She could be our lookout.”
“I could call her—” Cannon tried to offer.
But Stack noticed that Vanity already had both her arms wrapped around one of Armie’s.
And damn him, Armie just let her, smiling in a way that just might lose him a few teeth.
Leese looked at each of the men and started snickering.
“They’re pathetic, right?” Armie said.
“They’re something,” Leese agreed. “Not sure what.”
“You two losers are just jealous,” Cannon accused.
“Yeah,” Armie said, patting at Vanity’s arm. “So jealous.”
Denver growled when Cherry cozied up to the other side of Armie, and even Yvette smiled as she followed along, all of them heading to the locker room.
The men stared until the group was out of sight.
“I’m going to have to punch him,” Denver said. “At least once.”
“Get in line,” Cannon told him. Then he pointed at Leese. “Not a word out of you!”
Trying to bite back his grin, Leese got started mopping.
Damn, Stack wondered, did Vanity enjoy making him nuts? And unlike Cannon and Denver, he couldn’t protest as much as he wanted because, though he’d thrown out some signals, he and Vanity weren’t official.
Fuck.
The door chimed, and they all turned to see Merissa breezing in, her long dark hair blowing out behind her. She had a stack of yellow papers held securely in her arms.
Cannon all but pounced on her. “Do me a favor, honey, will you?”
Suspicious, she reared back to look at him, then at Stack and Denver. “What’s going on?”
“The ladies insisted on a shower, and Armie, the ass, is down there playing watchdog.”
“And listening,” Denver added, which got Leese snickering again.
Hip cocked out, Merissa glared at the men. “So, what do you expect me to do?”
With evil delight, Cannon said, “He’s watching the door, so I want you to watch him.”
“Um...”
“Tell him I sent you. Tell him he’s to stay put in case any guys wander down that way. He wouldn’t want you to deal with that any more than I do.”
“So...”
Hands on his sister’s shoulders, Cannon said, “But you can deal with him, right?”
Looking very unsure, Merissa shrugged. “Sure.” Her gaze scanned each of them. “I only stopped by to drop off the new forms Harper wanted me to copy.”
“Great. Thanks.” Cannon took the stack of papers from her. “Since you’re here, why not stick around and keep Armie company so he won’t get an opportunity to eavesdrop on anyone?”
Merissa looked toward the hallway that led to the lockers. She looked at her brother’s smiling face. She took in Stack and Denver’s expectant expressions. With a quick inhale and great determination, she hiked her purse strap higher on her shoulder and nodded. “Consider it done.” Her smile long gone, she marched away.
Stack whistled. Talk about payback... He almost felt sorry for Armie.
When Cannon turned back to them, Denver grinned. “That was mean.”
Cannon clapped him on the shoulder. “I love Armie like a brother, you know that.”
Cannon never hesitated to talk about love. He was the most comfortable guy Stack had ever known. And his ease with emotions put others at ease, as well.
Stack and Denver nodded.
Satisfied, Cannon told them both, “I wouldn’t do anything that wasn’t for his own good.” And with that, Cannon headed toward the reception area with the papers.
Scratching at his scruffy chin, Denver asked Stack, “What the hell was that about?”
Stack shrugged. “No idea.” But as long as Armie wasn’t listening to Vanity while she showered, he wouldn’t spend too much time stewing on it.
He had better things to think about—like getting Vanity alone again tonight. Getting her naked.
Getting her under him.
He hoped she showered quickly. He was so far off the deep end, he didn’t think he could wait much longer.
* * *
SMIRKING, ARMIE STOOD with arms folded, his shoulders against the outside wall on the other side of the locker room entrance. He could hear the women talking about their respective men.
Funny shit.
Only Vanity seemed unfazed, but then Stack was dragging his feet about stating the obvious. After tonight, he expected Stack would remedy that.
The women—all of them as nice as nice girls could be—were pretty awesome. He was happy for his friends. Not that he wanted the same for himself. Hell no.
Not in the cards. Not for someone like him.
His future had been molded a long time ago, and rather than fight it, he’d just rolled with the punches. And the kicks.
And the devastation.
Fuck ’em all. What had been stolen from him, he didn’t need. Or so he told himself. Often. Until recently he’d made it so, and he’d been happy with his life.
Okay, maybe “happy” was a stretch, but he’d been content. He’d made it work. He lived by his own rules and ignored the restrictions.
Until the SBC had insisted on signing him on, meaning more exposure...to everyone.
His past would get dredged up in a big way. Cannon claimed it was time. He knew Cannon would stand beside him. All the guys would. But needing them for this, for anything, made him feel pathetic,
and he’d done his utmost to leave that shit behind.
When a sudden burst of laughter came from the showers, Armie realized he hadn’t been listening to the ladies after all. He’d gotten lost in thought, and damn it, he’d missed the joke.
“You changed your hair.”
Startled by the husky timbre of that familiar voice, he slowly turned his head. Backlit by the fluorescent lights of the main room, Merissa Colter stood there in the long hallway. Silky ebony hair trailed over her shoulders all the way to her tiny waist. His attention went to her cleavage. She usually wore crew neck tops, but now, tonight, her sweater dipped low enough to make his mouth go dry.
“Yeah.” Who knew a small change with his hair would get so much attention?
“Why?”
He shrugged. Just because he felt like he had to control something, even something as dumb as his outward appearance...no reason to share that with her.
He focused on her cleavage instead of his warped issues. Her tan top fell to mid hip, leading his gaze to her endlessly long legs hugged in skinny jeans that showed off every subtle curve. His nostrils flared with a breath.
Her height almost equaled her brother’s, so she seldom wore heels. But her boots tonight lifted her an inch, maybe two, meaning their mouths would be perfectly aligned...
“Armie?” She shifted, arms crossing under her breasts and one hip jutting out. “You’re making me feel naked.”
Shit. “Don’t put ideas in my head, Stretch.” He had enough of them in there already—and they always made him feel guilty. Pushing off the wall, he took one step toward her. “So, what’s up?”
She and Cannon shared the same light blue eyes, but on Cannon they were just there. On Merissa... Jesus. The impact of those eyes staring into his made his balls tighten.
“For one second,” she said, “you managed to treat me like other women. Should have known it wouldn’t last.” She brushed past him, put her back to the wall, and slid down to her curvy little ass.
Confused by her presence but craving it all the same, Armie stood over her; it was safer than joining her on the floor. “You know me. Why in God’s name would you want me to treat you the way I treat other women?”
From the showers, Vanity yelled, “I like how you treat me.”
Rolling his eyes, Armie yelled back, “Concentrate on your shower, Vee.”
A giggle, and then Cherry added, “That overhearing thing goes both ways, just so you know.”
Merissa put her face in her hands.
“Busybodies!” Taking the wall across from her, Armie joined her on the floor. She looked so bleak, he stretched out his legs, letting his feet go on either side of hers. Keeping his voice lower, he asked, “What’s the matter?”
She dropped her hands and, looking mean, narrowed her gaze at him. “Not a thing. I’m here to babysit you. Again.”
“The night of the wedding was bullshit. I was fine and everyone knows it.” Mostly fine, anyway. “You sent me home in a cab?”
Her thick lashes half lowered. “No. I drove you and your truck home, then I called a cab for me.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I saw your message on my window.”
She shrugged. “I wasn’t sure you’d remember any of it.”
Nudging her foot with his, he said, “I didn’t do anything to offend you, did I?”
“You mostly ignored me.”
Well...good. “So, what’s the reason you’re here now?”
“Apparently the men don’t trust the nefarious Armie Jacobson near their girlfriends.”
“Then that’s bullshit, too. They trust me. They just know their own minds would be rolling ’round in the gutter, and they figure you’d be a distraction to keep mine from doing the same.”
Interest sparked in her eyes. “And am I?”
“A distraction?” Always. Even when she wasn’t around. Most especially at night when he tried to sleep, when substitute women didn’t measure up, when... Shit. “We’re jawing, aren’t we?”
For too long, maybe drawing wrong conclusions, she studied him. “If Cannon hadn’t sent me, would you be thinking...things? I mean, about them naked and—”
“There you go again,” he answered softly, mesmerized by her curiosity as always. “Putting thoughts in my head.”
This time her foot nudged his. “I’m serious.”
Should he tell her the truth? That instead of thinking about a gaggle of gorgeous women naked in the shower, he’d taken a melancholy stroll down memory lane? Fuck that.
“I was just thinking.” He let his head drop back against the concrete block wall. “But not about them.”
She nodded. “Good.” Drawing back, she stammered, “I mean, the guys would be glad to hear that.”
Don’t do it, don’t do it— “And you?” Shut up, Armie. But for some reason, he couldn’t. Maybe because he’d be entering the SBC instead of smaller local venues. Maybe because, as Cannon had insisted, it was time. Past time.
Maybe because he was tired of being a fraud.
He let his foot rest against hers, watched her eyes flare over the simple touch, and couldn’t help wondering about touching her in better, hotter ways. “What would you say if I told you I was thinking about them?”
Focused on their feet, she didn’t answer.
That amused him. Sweet, innocent Rissy. His best friend’s baby sis.
His kinkiest fantasy—and that said a lot, because if there was one thing Armie knew, it was kink.
She also starred in other fantasies, those that were less sexual and more...emotional. Heavier. Sweeter.
More real.
Heart beating harder, he prompted her again. “Rissy?”
Her gaze shot up to lock on his. A deep inhale drew his attention to her breasts. Her lips parted. “I—”
Clustered together in a gossipy group, the ladies stepped into the hall. Vanity, who’d been looking at Cherry as she spoke, tripped over Armie’s outstretched legs before he could withdraw them.
Yelping, on her way to meeting the floor, Vee threw out her arms. Acting on instinct, Armie rolled under her and managed to break her fall.
She landed awkwardly against his chest, her boobs in his face, one of his hands on her ass.
Yvette and Cherry fell into each other laughing.
Straightening, Vanity joined them.
Armie readjusted his hold, and when she remained sitting on his thighs, he squeezed her. “Brat. My hands were in forbidden territory. Stack’s going to murder me.”
“My fault,” Vanity said around her continued hilarity. “Stack will be glad I didn’t break my nose.”
“It was my fault for occupying the hallway.” He looked to Merissa—and realized she’d left. He swiveled his head in time to see her backside turn the corner and disappear.
Well, damn.
Vanity cupped his cheek. “You’re getting smarter, Armie. Don’t disillusion me, okay?”
He didn’t like the way she said that. “Meaning what?”
“Meaning I consider you kind as well as sexual.” Her pat to his cheek was a little harder than necessary. “You deserve it all.”
Leaving him confused and a little antagonistic, she scrambled back to her feet, but then bent low to add, “You made some strides tonight. Keep it up.”
He was still lying there, his frown so fierce it made his temples throb, when all three ladies walked off, their heads together as they whispered.
About him.
Vee had it wrong. Merissa was the one who deserved it all.
Unfortunately, he probably wouldn’t be the one to give it to her.
* * *
NEVER BEFORE HAD the locker room smelled of flowers, but after the women left it, the scents of feminine lotion and perfume had lingered.
And exacerbated Stack’s lust.
By the time he reached Vanity’s house, anticipation had him semi-erect. With winter rolling in, the evening air had a definite nip to it, but it didn’t help cool him down.
Nothing would, except sex with Vanity.
Tonight she had plenty of outside lights on, and she’d parked her car in the garage.
He went up the walkway, each step ramping up his urgency.
Twice he reminded himself that he couldn’t just rush her off to bed. She deserved better than that.
She deserved more than her original bargain, and so did he.
He’d been at the rec center longer than her, but she’d remained there with him right through dinnertime. He should have offered to take her to dinner. Soon, he would. But not tonight.
The dogs would want to visit. Desperate as he was to have Vanity again, he couldn’t disregard Maggie and Norwood.
His forearm provided a nonstop ache. He should ice it again, and he would, later. Until then, he wouldn’t let it slow him down.
Was Vanity tired after her workout and then the self-defense class? If so, she’d done a good job hiding it. While some women finished up their workouts looking exhausted, Vanity had emerged from the showers all smiles and laughter, and so damned beautiful.
Her energy level astounded him and turned him on. But then she could do nothing at all, and he wanted her. Especially now that he’d gotten a small taste of her.
And thinking of tasting her... Damn. There was a lot he wanted to do, all of it making the restriction in his jeans more noticeable.
He reached the front door, raised his hand to knock—and a shadow shifted in the side yard.
No fucking way would he get caught off guard twice. Senses sharpened, he silently stepped to the side of her porch. He heard movement, and then saw a deer bolt off. The white tail disappeared into the darkness. With a sense of unease still prickling the back of his neck, he continued to search the area.
Behind him the front door opened. “Stack?”
He turned back to Vanity and mentally reeled.
Her pale hair reflected the glow of the porch light. A pink, long-sleeved tee fit snug to her breasts, the hem not quite reaching the waistband of the soft flannel pants hanging low on her narrow hips. He saw a tantalizing strip of belly in between, and it made him burn.
In her eyes, he saw the same urgency he felt.
Breathing fast, her gaze devouring him, she held out a hand.
Stack made himself stand still. “Where are the dogs?”
“Waiting to say hi.”
